Wistfully
I remember my freshman year of college, when I first started really following Jesus — I remember missing my old boyfriend, and keenly feeling that aching torn-between-two worlds feeling. I wanted Jesus more than anything. But there were days I looked wistfully at my old life.
Now, 23 years later, I can see how silly it was to long for what was gone because God had so much more in store for me. There’s no comparison. Life has had pain, for sure, but also blessings beyond what I could have then imagined.
A couple years ago I wrote a song. I have written exactly one song in my life, and this is it. đ I wrote it before any of our latest global adventures began. It’s called The Narrow Road. The verses go like this:
Lord, here’s my heart. Divided and Torn. Part wanting my way, part wanting yours. Make it undivided. Make it whole again. Lead me down the narrow road.
There is a wide way that seems right to man, but it leads straight to death, again and again. It’s your kindness, I know, that turns me around, to go down the narrow road.
My flesh hates restrictions, hates feeling bound, but I know your commands, Lord, are where freedom’s found. I submit to your plan, I relinquish my rights, I’ll go down the narrow road.
Put my hand to the plow, and I’ll look straight ahead; Remember Lot’s wife, let dead bury dead. ‘Cause your promise is sure, and nothing compares, I’ll go down the narrow road.
All this world offers, I’ll count it as loss. Deny’s self’s demands, and take up my cross. ‘Cause your way leads to life, abundant and true, I’ll go down the narrow road.
Then on that day, when I reach journey’s end, I’ll meet with my Maker, my Savior, my Friend. He’s the way, truth, the life, He’s the only Door, to joy in its fullness, pleasure evermore.
The chorus goes:
I look wistfully at the road that is wide, then I remember why my Savior died. And the life I now live, is Christ crucified, I’ll go down the narrow road.
I had forgotten all about this song, until today when I was reading John Piper’s words today:
One of the great temptations to keep us from fulfilling what Jesus calls us to to do is that we grow weary in the battle and look back on how easy life was before we started to follow him. Strive to enter through the narrow door means, fight for perseverence. … In other words, one of the factors that makes the door to the Kingdom of God narrow is that striving to enter must last to the end. Therefore, Jesus warns us against nostalgia for the former days of worldliness. He says that the stress of the last days of this age will tempt people to look back. So with stark simplicity he warns, “Remember Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:32) … Striving to enter through the narrow door means taking heed to the warning of Jesus: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62).
What Jesus Demands From the World, P. 177
This pandemic has left many of us wondering, “What does it mean to ‘go back’?” I don’t think we can go back. Because the world is different. We are different. And God is doing His thing, as always, and invites us in, but there is always this temptation to look wistfully at “the old days.”
When the days drew near for him to be taken up, [Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem.
Luke 9:51
This week we remember Jesus’ movement toward the cross. As the days drew near, he “set his face” in the right direction. No reminiscing about wine at weddings. No wistful remembrance of the “good ol’ days.” No bitterness that his once-friend Judas was about to betray him.
He set his face.
Lord, set ours.
Exasperated, perplexed, but not in despair
I’ve wanted to write about this for awhile, but every time I sat down my heart didn’t seem right. Honestly, it doesn’t seem right very often these days. All I mean is, I feel like I can always detect some trace of pride, or anger, or self-righteousness, or hurt. But recently I read a book, and the author’s honesty was so refreshing to me. There were parts of his heart that were “right” and there were parts that weren’t. Rather than wait until his heart was perfect in order to communicate, he just readily acknowledged it all and still pressed through to communicate, what he believed, was God’s heart.
Last night I told my parents I think many people feel like exasperated children. In Ephesians 6:4, Paul writes, “Fathers, do not exasperate your children.” Now, I know next to nothing about politics, but I know a little bit about parenting. I haven’t read a lot on public policy but I’ve read A LOT on parenting. I haven’t shaped the culture of a nation, but I have most certainly shaped the hearts of my children. And this verse has always been near to my heart. I believe in firm discipline, clear and swift consequences, and first-time obedience.
And I also believe that parents can crush their children’s spirits when they exasperate them.
- They exasperate them when they don’t clearly communicate what’s expected.
- They exasperate them when they change the rules without notice.
- They exasperate them when they’re inconsistently disciplined, so the child never knows when a certain offense will be punished and when it won’t.
- They exasperate them when they have standards that are completely unattainable.
- They exasperate them when they don’t reward or praise their good behavior.
- They exasperate them when they let other siblings get away with wrong behavior, without punishment, especially when they don’t protect an innocent child from the sinful behavior of a sibling.
- They exasperate them when they require a certain standard for their children that they don’t live up to themselves.
- They exasperate them when they never allow reasonable appeals to their rules or authority, when they don’t give their children a voice.
This list actually makes me tear up. I love children. Fiercely. I feel sorry for those who are frequently exasperated by poor parenting.
And I feel these things. I have felt exasperated, living in Oregon, as the leader of a church, trying to navigate the twists and turns of the last six months. The standards seem to change constantly. Requirements for gaining freedoms seem unattainable. Things that used to be the standards, now aren’t the standards. The bar is always moving, sometimes without notice. Evildoers aren’t punished, while it feels like those of us who going out of our way to try to obey every mandate aren’t rewarded or encouraged. No appeals are allowed and we never get a say, because the State of Emergency eliminates all our usual processes.
Please hear my heartâI do not mean to speak against those in places of authority. I am SO grateful for leaders. I have gone out of my way, during the last six months, to THANK those in places of leadership, even if I didn’t agree with them, because I recognize how incredibly difficult it is to navigate the season we are in.
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair…”
2 Cor. 4:7-8
On the other hand, as I look closer to home, I am perplexed. I am perplexed that we, as followers of Jesus, are so divided. My kids and I just finished reading The Hiding Place, and SO MANY things stood out to me. One surprising thing that I didn’t remember from before, was how differently Corrie and her sister Nollie responded to the German invasion, and their own personal responses to the occupation, their part in the Resistance, hiding the Jews, etc.
As you may know, Corrie ran an underground system of hiding Jews so that they wouldn’t be send to extermination camps. She had to lie, in order to obtain ration cards so these Jews could be fed. She had to lie to the German soldiers in order to save the lives of those in her care. Her conviction was that this was obedience to God, in order to preserve life and protect the innocent.
Her sister, Nollie, had the conviction that one should never lie. Ever. Even when asked point-blank about hidden Jews, she would answer honestly. This was beyond infuriating to Corrie, who saw it as actually putting people in danger because of her rigid devotion to the letter of the law.
The amazing thing is … God used both. In Nollie’s rigid honesty, God provided amazing ways of escape and protected those in her care, as well as her own life. In Corrie’s shrewdness, God saved hundreds of lives and worked through the ways she concealed certain information.
I know it is on a WAY tamer level, but I believe we’re in the middle of a similar situation. I have dear friends, Jesus-loving, praying-and-fasting faithful friends, who are on exact opposite ends of the spectrum right now in terms of convictions. In our church, we have Jesus-loving people in opposite ends of the spectrum. On our property (!) we have people on the opposite ends of the spectrum. Honestly? In the practical experience this is exhausting. I often long to retreat to some corner where we can just all have the same convictions and I won’t have to deal with the discomfort of it all (this might surface as me telling Jeff, “I want to run away!”). But as I read Corrie’s account, it encouraged my heart so profoundly to see her struggle through the same thing and YET, SHE AND NOLLIE REMAINED UNIFIED.
Even in their convictions that seemed exact opposite, they were sisters, and they remained committed to one another and to Christ. The key? I believe it was that neither of them insisted that the other do it her way. Corrie never insisted that Nollie conceal or lie. Nollie never judged Corrie for her secretive work.
Their father? When asked what he thought he simply responded, “I think you both are operating out of love.”
And they were.
What’s troubling to me right now is this weapon-phrase we’re tossing around, “If you really loved people you would [fill in the blank with whatever that person’s particular standpoint is on a current issue.]”
I would cautious all of us against using that phrase, unless the blank is filled with something straight from Scripture. Even then, we way we engage in good works may look different from another genuine believer.
If Nollie and Corrie had turned on one another, because of their disagreement in how they sought to save the Jews, the entire work of saving hundreds of lives (and thousands of souls, eventually, through Corrie’s lifelong work) would have been destroyed.
So, brothers and sisters: In our exasperation, can we remain hopeful, prayerful, humble, knowing God is working patience in us? As we are perplexed, can we refuse to be driven to despair, can we trust His Word to guide and lead us, as we continually turn our hearts to Him? Despair will destroy our hearts. Division will destroy our mission.
Satan wants to devour us, at all cost.
Will you pray? Will you pray that leaders will not exasperate those under their authority? Will you pray that the church will be unified, not in our exact convictions, but in our commitment to Christ and our love for one another? Will you pray that this difficult season we are in will bring a harvest of souls who are willing to lay down their lives for the sake of following Jesus?
With you, in the ups and downs. Perplexed, but not driven to despair. Jesus is with us! Thanks for reading.
5 Benefits of multi-ages learning together
Teaching multiple ages at once is hard.
This is one of the most common homeschool complaints I hear (usually from myself!). The struggle is real: Weâll have a 14-year age span between the oldest and youngest of our children when our next son is born this fall.
Currently, one son is learning to shave while the other is learning to keep his hands out of his poopy diaper. We also share our home with another homeschooling family, so the total age-range of kids educated on these premises will be 18 years.
I also have (wonderful!) aging parents, including a disabled mom, with whom we spend much of our time (there will be an almost 79-year-old age difference between my dad and my youngest son). Our 11-year-old daughter regularly feeds my mom, cleans her hands and fingernails, brushes her hair, and reads aloud to her.
I mention these dynamics simply because they have shaped my perspective on age segregation, and convinced me that although learning (and living!) with a wide age-range has its challenges, it offers priceless benefits that simply arenât available in a sea of same-aged students.
While I wonât hit on the how during this article, I want to convince you the work is worth it! A few of the great benefits include: {Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool
40 days off social media: 5 things I noticed
For my 40th birthday I gave myself a gift: 40 days off social media. In not one, not two, but three books I recently read (Deep Work, Them, and The Common Rule) the authors recommended social media breaks of various lengths, all for different reasons–mostly spiritual, emotional, and mental health.
But the one that stood out to me the most was from a non-religious book called Deep Work, which asserts that distraction has a crippling effect on important, creative, deep, thoughtful work (and, I’d say, relationships). The author believes we must work to increase our ability to give focused attention, at-length, to projects and people. (It’s interesting to me that Charlotte Mason lists this as the most important trait to teach young children.)
He writes, “Don’t formally deactivate these services, and (this is important) don’t mention online that you’ll be signing off: Just stop using them… After 30 days, ask yourself the following two questions about each service you temporarily quit:
- Would the last 30 days have been notably better if I had been able to use this service?
- Did people care that I wasn’t using this service?
If your answer is “no” to both questions, quit the service permanently.”
So I did this, but stretched it to 40 days. Here’s what stood out to me:
- I was much more emotionally stable for my family. I realized that often I can be short or taxed or moody with my family not because of anything they’ve done, but because of some post or comment or news opinion item (not the news event itself but the commentary on the new event) has frustrated or saddened or irked me.
- I was more present for the people in front of me. I can easily live in my head. I’m always thinking, considering, debating, having conversations in my head. A quick hop on social media can easily send me into rabbit-trail of thoughts that are a world away from the actual people I’m facing and serving in that moment.
- I was on my phone WAY less. This is probably obvious, but with no social media apps there isn’t a whole lot to do on one’s phone. It also just happened that on my bday (when I began) my phone quit taking a charge from all cables except one, and the battery-life dwindled drastically. So basically my phone has to stay plugged in, and when I’m out and about I turn it off.
- I felt more clarity in how to thoughtfully respond to events rather than emotionally react out of guilt or anger. This was probably the biggest benefit for me. The challenge for me with social media isn’t that I compare my life with others, or waste time, or play games or get jealous. For me, the challenge on social media is that it feels like there is ALWAYS something to be outraged about. So. Many. Causes. So. Much. Anger. I recently heard someone describe themselves as a “bleeding heart conservative” and I had to laugh. I feel like that! I feel (deeply!) the need to respond to every injustice and and then my pride gets mixed in too and I don’t want to be seen as uncaring, so I want to somehow show my care or attention to some issue, but the problem is–on social media we tend to equate “action” with “posting something immediately.” Never mind that this issue (whatever it is) has probably been around for years or decades (or all of human history) if you don’t post exactly the right thing RIGHT NOW then you clearly aren’t a real Christian. What’s interesting, of course, is that research shows that posting about some cause on social media actually makes you LESS likely to do something about it. Probably because the post somehow satisfies our “need to do something” urge. We get the monkey off our back without having to lift a literal finger–thumbs and hashtags are all it takes! Of course I’m not saying that people who post on social media don’t actually do things–not at all! But for me, I found that without the social media “option” for action, I was much more inclined to pray, research, ask God for direction, and DO SOMETHING.
- I was able to love people in person more easily, without their recent posts flashing through mind. I was recently telling my sister-in-law that in person I’ve never really met someone I didn’t like. I mean, there are some not-favorites đ but for the most part, when I meet people in person, I like them. Even the ones who are different, who think different, vote different, look different. But when I read someone’s inflammatory or emotionally-charged rant on Facebook, that’s what stands out in my mind and it’s like an invisible barrier to being able to just love that person. Sure, sometimes people say things to my face that are hard or hurtful, but that’s real life. There’s grace aplenty to process that. But online, people say different things than they would in person, so when I also have to factor in all the sound-bytes and snippets and political posts and hashtags and article links and rants…it’s just a lot for my poor brain to overcome when I’m trying to just love and listen to and understand the person right in front of me.
Did I miss anything? I’ll be completely honest: What I missed was sharing funny things about my kids or cute photos of Justice. And that’s what their grandparents missed too. In fact, it was interesting to me that no one noticed I was off social media except my dad. Not a single person asked me where I’d been. So my absence was not a big loss for the world! (Also, I still read and responded to messages via Messenger and in three closed groups, as I need to be present there as well.)
Oh, one last thing: I narrowed down my news intake to one Daily Digest. I receive one daily email with 6-8 headlines (World, US, Politics, Church, Opinion, etc.). I can scan quickly and look more into stories I feel need more attention. The articles are thoughtful, from a Christian perspective (rather than a certain political party), and seem balanced and gracious. I feel informed not inflamed. đ
Going forward, I won’t be deleting my FB or IG accounts (I can’t deprive the world of Justice’s cuteness much longer!), but I’ll be continuing to enjoy them on a limited basis. (These posts automatically go to FB) AND, one fun outcome of all this: We’re starting a podcast! More details to come, but I’m super excited to be able to share more via voice and discussion, along with writing. If you want to be sure to catch the podcast and blog posts, please subscribe over in the orange box to the right (that way you don’t have to rely on social media to see stuff!)
More soon. Thanks so much for reading.
From His & Hers to Ours
Today marks 17 years since Jeff & I vowed to leave our separate lives and cleave to one another in marriage. The vows we spoke were fairly simple, I remember some “for better or for worse” business and “forsaking all others” stuff and something along the lines of “as long as we both shall live.”
Easier said than done.
It’s a strange phrase, but the exhortation to “catch the little foxes that spoil the vine” (Song of Songs 2:15) is just about the best marriage-advice out there.
It’s the little stuff, over the long haul, that threatens to spoil the most important human relationship we will ever have.
We’ve had some little foxes come our way, too. Most recently, God did a deep work in my own heart, and while it was painful, I now see it bearing great fruit. Jeff and I shared bits of it here…
God took us from “His & Hers” to “Ours.”
When we were first married, Jeff & I visited distant relatives in Chicago, and while we were there we attended a funeral for one of their friends. We had never met this person, but it impacted us deeply.
It was said of this man (and his wife), “they were two parallel tracks running beside one another.” Each person had “their thing” — they were successful, accomplished, and each ran along their individual track. It was meant to be a praise, but Jeff and I both were alarmed and we knew–we don’t want to be two parallel tracks. We knew God called us to oneness, not separate tracks. We knew, from that point on, we were to pursue oneness and be on guard against going our own way.
There have been challenges along the way, but God really brought my own “separate track” to a head in early April, when Covid quarantine had us all a little on edge.
It was the perfect storm of pregnancy hormones, morning sickness, fatigue, anxiety regarding miscarriage, etc. Several situations surfaced, where I felt like I had to die to myself in drastic ways. I was deeply discouraged. I told God (bitterly) that He apparently made me wrong because it seemed like all the ways He fashioned me were all needing to be stripped away. It felt like every single thing about me needed to change.
God began putting his finger on all the ways I see things as “mine.” While I have relinquished my hold on money, there are plenty of other things I see as “my” this or “my” that.
A big one was, âYour time is not your own.â I realized I see each day as âmyâ time, so Iâm frustrated when it feels wasted or squandered by others. He showed me that none of my time is âmyâ time.
Then, the day before Easter, Jeff used my SUV (which I loved, my favorite car I’ve ever had) to make a rather long trip (that I didn’t want him to take), and it died. As in, engine dead. $10,000 to fix, and thatâs about exactly what it was worth.
My car, gone.
Iâm not a big car-person, so I was completely caught off guard by how emotionally I responded. I soon realized that my car represented the only thing in my life that is âmine.â In our 17 years of marriage I had allowed resentment to build up–I felt like every area of my life had been âtaken overâ by someone else. Except my car. I kept it clean and tidy, washed it every week.
It was the one and only thing that was mine.
And then he took it and it was gone. It felt like the last straw of things taken from me. Inwardly, I was angry at Jeff even though I knew it wasnât really him. It was really God. Confirming that, as we prayed about replacing it, God began showing me He had a new plan. Rather than having âJeffâsâ car and âmyâ car (His & Hers), we would instead get a small, fuel-efficient commuter car that whoever needed to drive would use.
I realized that I would no longer have a âmyâ anywhere in my life.
It seems silly now, but I shed tears over this whole situation. Clearly, this work needed to happen. When I said yes to Jeff 17 years ago, I committed to a life of âour.â When I said yes to Jesus many years ago, I renounced my claim on my own life. There isnât enough space to quote all the verses that make this clear. The call to follow Christ means at least that I can let go of whatever is âmy.â Thy kingdom. Our belongings. Whether the issue is time, or money, or belongings, or space, or whatever, letting go of âmyâ is painful, but so necessary. Until I let go of âmyâ I cannot truly be His. Until I let go of “His” and “Hers” we won’t enjoy the joy that could be OURS.
After hearing me talk about this, a dear 14-year-old girl from our church made me these towels for my 40th birthday. (Isn’t this the coolest gift ever?!) Everyday I see them hanging and it reminds me that “His & Hers” are no longer, and that God’s joy and freedom and LIFE is OURS if we will lay down our rights and possessions and privileges for the sake of someone else.
Friends, do you see that this is so much bigger than marriage? We tend to treat “marriage & family” like it’s a separate topic or ministry from the rest of the “pressing issues” of the day. But it’s not. The willingness to lay down our lives for someone else, the actual process of dying to your own preferences and becoming a person of forbearance, grace, kindness, courage, generosity, and love is the only thing that will actually cure our country and our world of the evils we are facing. Christ is the only resource sufficient. Without redemption, new birth, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit we simply do not have what it takes to let go of the claim on our lives.
I’m so grateful for these 17 years that have challenged and changed and shaped and molded Jeff and me more and more into the image of Christ. We have so much more to learn, so I hope we get a few dozen more years together for Jesus to work in us. đ
Thanks for reading.
Invitation to Edit
Just now I glanced at my email inbox and saw seven GoogleDoc invitations from my children over the last few weeks, and marveled at how opportunities to influence look so different in different seasons, and they’re still so easy to miss…
More than six years ago, I reflected on how we win our children’s hearts through entering in to their imaginative play. That simple truth has come to mind dozens of times since then, and I’m so grateful I sailed toy ships, sat in playhouses, and sipped imaginary tea.
Life is very different now–there is still play, of course, but there’s no more imaginary tea or battleships in the bathtub. Now, that entering in comes in different forms:
Invitation to view. Invitation to comment. Invitation to edit.
These days, my kids spend quite a bit of time on computers, and I’m okay with that. They sit perched at our kitchen counter, and work on their various creative projects. Heidi is writing her second book, Dutch works on his blog, creates battle scenarios, researches various topics, and they both enjoy creating quizzes using Googleforms. Each one reflects their interests and passions, each one reveals a little of his or her heart.
All creative work is ultimately the sharing of oneself.
And it is a gift and privilege, I now see, that they want to share these works with me.
Just as they wanted to share imaginary tea six years ago.
And, just as six years ago, if I’m not mindful it’s easy for me to completely miss this opportunity. Honestly, I have so much to do (hello, toddler!) and I’m so tired (hello, pregnancy!) that it’s a gift that they spend so much time on their various (quiet) creative endeavors. It’s easy to just be glad they’re occupied and tiptoe off for a moment alone.
But then I check my email and I see:
Invitation to view. Invitation to comment. Invitation to edit.
I’ve always wanted to work to win my children’s hearts. I’ve always wanted to work so that when teens years come, they invite me in. The years of controlling are quickly coming to an end. The years of influence are here.
(Parental-control isn’t bad, by the way, during the little years, but always for the purpose of teaching and equipping them to exhibit self-control as they grow. I’m most certainly still in the control stage with Justice!)
And in these years of influence, the invitations are subtle, but still there.
They are inviting us to view: Let’s seize the chance to look into their hearts.
They are inviting us to comment: Let’s wisely comment and critique, without sarcasm or insincerity, but honesty and kindness.
And occasionally, the highest honor, they are inviting us to edit: Let’s sparingly and humbly enforce those habits and attitudes in our homes that will call them to godliness, respect, servanthood, initiative, agency, courage.
Of course not all viewing and commenting and editing comes from their invitation. As long as they are under my roof I still have executive authority to view or comment or edit as necessary. But if ignore those invitations and settle only for crowbarring my input into their lives, I’m doing us all a disservice.
Further, there are many around us (not just our children) who we have the privilege of influencing, yet we are tempted to try to control them by forcefully shoving our viewpoint into their lives. Jesus never did this.
Invitations for influence are all around us, if we will patiently pay attention.
The truth is, I fall hopelessly behind on reading all their documents. They can write way more than I can read in a day during naptime! But I’m still wading in, when I can, saying yes to those invitations to view, comment, and edit, working to keep winning their hearts.
{Thanks for reading.}
Considering homeschooling? 5 things I wish I knew before I began.
If youâre considering homeschooling and have a heap of questions, please know: Youâre not alone.
Weâre in strange times, and never before have I heard from so many parents who are considering homeschooling their children next year.
If thatâs you, let me just say: This site is a virtual treasure-trove. From the âStart Hereâ links above (fabulous stuff!) to Jamieâs simple 3-hour homeschool game-plan, to the annual âDay in the Lifeâ series, to posts on nearly every topic you can imagine, this site has always been my go-to for advice, links, and encouragement.
We just finished our 8th year homeschooling, and there are a few overarching things I wish I would have grasped more fully before we began.
Perhaps they can be helpful as you consider your plan for the days and years ahead: … Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool. Thanks!
All the more, Encourage.
And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. Heb. 10:24-25
A few things are concerning me right now, and none of them are Covid-19. That’s not discounting or dismissing the danger of the virus (it’s real!) and it’s not a political statement. I’m not concerned about whether or not I have to wear a mask in the grocery store. I’m not even terribly concerned about when we’ll be able to gather in a large-group, in our church building (though I am SO looking forward to that!).
I’m concerned that we, and we includes me, are getting distracted from our calling, purpose, and mission.
In January, as I asked God whether He had a word for me for 2020, a sort of guiding direction for my life, I was not a little surprised when I clearly heard, “Encouragement.”
Encouragement?? What sort of word is that? It isn’t even a Verb! I’m a verb girl, God!
Encouragement. It felt a little flat, honestly. But I wrote it down, and purposed to figure out what on earth God wanted me to do with it.
In March, I attended a workshop titled, “How to Have Difficult Conversations.” I didn’t want to go, but I knew I needed to, as even the mention of difficult conversations makes me break out in hives. I hate them, I’m bad at them, ministry is full of themâI went.
At the bottom of the handout was a Recommended Reading list, and the #1 recommended read was a book called, ready for it?
Encouragement.
Written Larry Crab and Dan Allender (I love them both!), I had a hunch this was probably the direction God was going with me. I bought it.
It’s a short book, but I’ve been going through it slowly, because it’s so good and I’m wrecked by how short I fall of being an truly encouraging person.
In short, to be an encouraging person, my overarching goal, in every personal interaction, is to minister to that person. That is, my goal is to listen and seek understanding so that I can become aware of the person’s hidden fears (we all have them) and speak words from love and targeted toward diminishing, and destroying, that fear.
How often do I go onto Facebook with the goal of seeing who I can encourage today?
When I’m getting ready for church in the morning do I ask God how I can be an encouragement to others today?
When I interact with my children, my husband, my housemates, do I inwardly seek opportunities to speak encouragement and life into their lives?
Sadly, the truth is, most often my underlying goal is some form of self-protection. Looking out for self. Defending self. Ensuring I’m not hurt. Guaranteeing my viewpoint is heard. Championing my view.
Why is it so hard to set aside self for the sake of encouraging others?
I can’t speak for anyone else but me: For me, it’s because it is terrifying to completely let go of looking out for self. Who will look out for me?
To give ourselves to the encouragement, strengthening, building up, and blessing of others, means abandoning ourselves to the care of …
God.
I don’t say this flippantly. Letting go of looking out for self isn’t an abstract thingâit plays out in real life, flesh and blood ways that sometimes feel painful. But isn’t this what we’re called to? Isn’t our purpose, as followers of Jesus, to seek the good and welfare of others? Aren’t we called to consider how to stir each other up toward love and good deeds, encouraging each other all the more as we see the day approaching.
I do believe that there is crazy stuff going on in our world. It sure seems like we are seeing the day approaching! But I can get so caught up in it that I completely forget what God told me to do in these days that we’re in!
Encourage. Reach out. Listen. Try to understand what’s going on beneath the layers. People are afraid, and it’s not just the people wearing masks.
I have definitely been battling discouragement, for a variety of reasons. And I’m struck by the fact, again and again, that I don’t usually find courage, strength, energy, and resolve by someone posting another click-bait news article on Facebook, or someone “speaking out” on another issue.
I’m encouraged when someone listens to me. When someone checks on me and asks how I’m doing. When someone send me a funny meme or gif or message that says they identify with how I’m feeling. Even when someone who loves me cares enough to speak a hard word about why I’m discouraged, identifying an idol that’s robbing my joy. Hard words, spoken from people who love me, are welcomed!
So I’m writing this to myself first and foremost. Writing things is a form of accountability for me. I endeavor to be an encourager. I think it’s critical we keep this front and center, all the more as we see the day drawing near.
Thanks for reading.
Are we supposed to resist evil or not? What did Jesus really mean?
I quizzed my kids the other day by reading them part of an article by Deepak Chopra and asking them whether it was true and theologically sound. It brought up a great discussion, the gist of it was this:
Are we to resist evil or not?
In the cited article, Chopra states that Jesus told his followers in Matthew 5:39, “Do not resist evil.” He went on to say that Jesus “gave in to evil and is worshipped for it.” He then blasts Christians by saying that they ignore this teaching and instead “seek revenge” on terrorists, Nazis, murders, and pedophiles. Apparently, Chopra thinks that Jesus words in Matthew 5 (and His going to the cross) mean that Christ-followers should never resist wrongdoing in this world. He concludes, “Now that … punishing all evil-doers to the absolute maximum is the most Christian thing to do, we can all rest easy. Jesusâs most radical ideas have been washed clean from our memories and our conscience.”
A few thoughts:
- First, he misquotes Jesus’ words. Just a slight twist, but it’s in there. My ESV says, “Do not resist the one who is evil.” Some translations say, “Do not resist the evildoer.” In the Greek it literally reads, “Do not resist THE evil.” The word for evil can be translated an evildoer, or just evil. But no matter how the English comes out, it’s clear that Jesus isn’t just making a blanket statement, “Do not resist evil.”
- Jesus came “to destroy the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8). Obviously the works of the devil are … EVIL. How can you destroy something without resisting it? Clearly Jesus came to resist and to destroy evil.
- James tells us, “Resist the devil” (James 4:7). If we are never to resist evil, how on earth would be resist the devil? Is it possible to tease the two apart? I can’t imagine how on earth you would do that.
So what is a Jesus-follower to do?
Follow Jesus exact words, His methods, His ways.
Jesus overturned evil by personally suffering evil. He resisted evil by refusing to retaliate. The context of Matthew 5:39 is Jesus saying, “Turn the cheek. Offer the cloak. Go the second mile.” When mistreated, Jesus is saying, “There’s actually a better tactic than just merely resisting (or retaliating against) the person mistreating you.”
Don’t fight the person, fight FORCE behind that person.
To Chopra’s credit, though I hate to admit it, I do think some of his observation is correct: As a whole, we Christians haven’t done a great job of enduring personal mistreatment. We’re a very quick lot to defend ourselves. But he’s also mangling Jesus’ message, and (it seems) using the criticism to discredit Christianity as a whole. That sort of sloppy theology and finger-pointing isn’t super helpful, in my opinion.
There’s a lot more I’d love to say, but for now … What do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
How to swap out the soil of our hearts
“It’s all about soil.”
I spoke this across the room to Jeff, out of the blue, while in the middle of reading Red Fish, Blue Fish to Justice. He looked at me, completely lost.
“That’s it. Same external environment, same seeds, same treatment, same timeframe. One pea planting is 3-feet high and one is 3-inches. It’s all about soil.”
Of course he knew I wasn’t talking about plants, per se, but the observation was certainly true on that level. We re-filled all our planter boxes with premium garden soil this year, and the growth is incredible, compared with the rest of the garden. Just yesterday our housemate observed, “You’ve never had this kind of success!”
It’s true, I said. We swapped out the soil.
The deeper level comment was in response to a question I’d been wrestling with: Why, under the same circumstances, do some people seem to grow and thrive and bear ongoing fruit and others don’t?
Of course, I’m including “seem to” because we can’t truly determine what growth is happening deep down, inside. But we can certainly observe fruit! We’re told to!
Jesus sheds light on this dilemma, I think, when He talks about soil. Just as I observed in my garden, Jesus clearly says that the key, in whether the seed of the gospel bears fruit manifold or not, simply comes down to soil.
“And some [seed] fell into good soil and it grew and yielded fruit a hundredfold.”
Luke 8:8
So then the question is: What is good soil and how do we get it?
It seems to be two-fold. In Luke 8:15 Jesus says, “As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.”
Good soil: Honest and good heart. Patience.
But in Matthew 13:23 Jesus says, “But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it.”
Good soil: Hearing God’s Word and understanding it.
Which is it? Yes.
As much as I’d like to blame external circumstances, the condition of my heart is the variable that determines the fruitfulness of my life.
And while that can feel defeating, as if I’m doomed to a life of stunted growth because of my bad soil, the opposite is too. Just as we were able to switch out the soil in our planter boxes, you can swap out the soil of your heart.
Our new soil cost us $114 and a good hour of shoveling (ok, Dutch & Jeff did all the shoveling). New soil in our hearts is going to take a much bigger investment, but friends: Nothing else matters more. Using Jesus words, we could safely say the swap out entails:
- Pursuing honesty and integrity, before God and others.
- Accepting difficulty and delays with patience.
- Regularly receiving the Word of God and working to understand it.
There are other aspects to the parable, of course. The cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke out the seed. Shallowness makes the seed spring up quickly with enthusiasm, then die in the face of difficulty. Lack of understanding allows the enemy to snatch away the seed before it has a chance to bear fruit.
But really, it’s all about the soil.
What we desperately need, what I desperately need, is to do the work of swapping out the soil of my heart by continually pursuing those three things. We don’t have control over our circumstances. We might be “free” but we are most certainly not in control. We don’t get to choose what plague or persecution will face us in our lifetime, but we do get to choose whether or not we will make the priority of pursuing good soil in our hearts, so that God can bear fruit a hundred-fold in our lives no matter what harsh environment comes our way.
{Thank you for reading.}